Up in Flames
by n00btmntfan
Summary: Splinter has everything he ever wanted and has never felt more complete. Then, waves of heat and smoke distort the world; in one night, his entire life is reduced to ash and agonizing darkness. Will the sun ever rise on his life again? A short story in 3 parts, rated T for death and prolonged interpersonal violence. See author's note for further details on rating choice.
1. Part I: Into the Inferno

**Author's note: I hemmed and hawed over the rating that I should give this story. All of my other stories have been rated T, and I have had some pretty edgy violence in those. This one isn't leaps and bounds beyond what I have written before, but it is just enough to make me think that maybe it needs to be marked as borderline. (I almost rated it M but then wondered if that would mean some of my other stories needed to be rated higher...does anyone else hate how vague the fiction ratings guidelines are?) It is rated strictly for violence, not for swearing or sexual content. Nevertheless, reader discretion is advised. Also, it's a bit weird to be posting a story this dark on Christmas Eve, but…here it is anyway. **

**Disclaimer: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, all related characters, and all derived works are the intellectual property of Nickelodeon, Viacom, Eastman, and Laird. This story is for entertainment purposes and not for monetary gain. In no way should this story be taken to be anything other than a fan-based expansion of and commentary on the source material. n00btmntfan is in no way associated with the makers of TMNT.**

* * *

><p><em>Part I: Into the Inferno<em>

_JAPAN, 1997_

Splinter sighed in content.

His bed was comfortable and warm, a place of refuge on a cold night. Tang Shen's head lay next to his, her hair cascading over the pillow like waves of blue-black silk. She was already fast asleep; she was exhausted from having gotten up to feed Miwa in the middle of the night nearly every night that week. He had offered to help numerous times, but since she insisted on strictly breastfeeding, there was, in fact, little he could do. Still, he did not just lie in bed and go back to sleep; he stood with her and the two of them sang lullabies in two-part harmony until Miwa finally drifted back into slumber.

His bed was comfortable and warm, but Shen's presence next to him made it like a piece of heaven on earth. She was his beautiful, radiant Rising Sun. Miwa lay in the space between them, tiny and perfect in every way, like a shining drop of brilliant dawn. Even though it was almost pitch dark, he could see the faintest outline of Shen's arm wrapped around Miwa. He reached over and laid his hand over his wife's hand; Miwa stirred ever so slightly, letting out a tiny high-pitched sigh before she settled back down.

Miwa. Harmony. She had taken the beautiful melody of her parents' love and added a depth and richness to it that Splinter had never imagined possible. As he listened to the faint sound of his daughter breathing, he wondered how their world had ever been complete before she came into their lives. Three months ago, he had been full of anxiety – not sure if he was truly prepared for the task of fatherhood. Now, he knew that prepared or not, he wanted nothing more than this for as long as he lived.

His beautiful, tiny little Miwa. Someday, she would walk. Someday, he would hear her say _'Tōsan'_ for the first time. Someday, he would teach her the ways of the _shinobi_. For now, however, he wanted this moment to last forever, to bask in the love and warmth of his family, the sun of his life.

He tried not to think of tomorrow, when he would have to go work; his father had passed the position of sensei on to him. Fifty students or so, most of whom were his cousins, expected Splinter to be there. Shen's oldest nephew would be there, wanting to know how his little cousin was doing. There were several children there who had no relation to the Hamatos at all, but whose parents had paid a handsome fee for the privilege of training under a grandmaster of ninjutsu.

It was, of course, this money that allowed Splinter to provide for his wife and daughter, so it was altogether necessary that he rise in the morning and go to his clan's dojo, where he himself had learned his first kata alongside his best friend.

Hamato – no, _Oroku_ Saki. Their five-year estrangement hurt. After all, they had given each other their silly nicknames as boys, thinking that they were positively the most intimidating individuals on the planet. And when Shredder had learned of his true heritage, he had gone to join the Foot Clan – had switched sides in one of the longest standing blood feuds in Japan.

Perhaps the only reason the Foot hadn't attacked the Hamatos during this time was because Shredder still had some small amount of attachment to the family who had loved and cared for him his entire life. It was, miraculously, the longest standing peace between the clans to this day.

Nevertheless, Splinter still feared that someday he would have to, in order to defend those he loved, take the life of his dearest friend.

A man who had been his _brother._

_No._ He would not allow Shredder to occupy his thoughts any further. He had his wife and daughter. As long as he had them, he would be happy. In perfect harmony with the universe. He had never been happier in his entire life than in this one beautiful moment. The morning would come, and he would have to leave this bed, but for now, nothing else mattered but the beautiful woman and perfect baby who lay next to him.

He closed his eyes; listening to the lullaby of the wind outside and the perfect melody and harmony of his family's breathing, he drifted into sleep.

Something jarring and discordant ripped him out of his slumber. He sat bolt upright, straining his hearing. Had there even been a sound, or had the loud screaming of his intuition woken him? Something was wrong – dreadfully and horrifically _wrong. _

Silent as the shadows, he rose from his bed and went to the window, peering through a tiny gap in the curtain. The waning moonlight offered little insight into the world outside.

A shadow moved, ever so slightly.

Then, at least fifty shadows shifted.

To anyone with lesser training, with a lesser intuition, it would have been imperceptible, no cause whatsoever for fear. To Splinter, it was a waking nightmare. Only his well-honed instincts prevented him from panicking.

He fled back to the bed and shook his wife. "Shen," he whispered urgently.

"Mmm?" Even her soft mumble seemed as loud to Splinter as a gunshot.

"Wake up. Get dressed. We are under attack."

"What?" Shen clambered out of bed and reached for her snow-white kimono.

"Silence." Splinter hurried to his wardrobe, drew out the tanto he kept there, and pressed it into his wife's shaky grip. "Take Miwa. Hide. There are at least fifty men outside – as soon as there is an opening, _run._" As he tied off his own robe, he went back over to the window and peered through the crack in the curtains again.

In plain sight, Shredder was walking to their door – it was the arrogant, overconfident approach of a man who thought he had already won.

"Hide! Now!" Splinter hissed.

Her face paler than the moon, Shen scooped up Miwa and ran to the well-disguised door that led to their safe room. Splinter ran to retrieve his katana from the wall, then silently moved out into the main room of the house. The single candle that they kept lit at their family shrine winked ever so slightly, as though a draft of air had passed through the room.

"Hamato Yoshi!" Shredder's voice ripped through the silence like a blasting cap. "You have something that belongs to me!"

Still lingering in the shadows, Splinter silently dared the Shredder to take even one tiny step further into his home.

Shredder laughed – a laugh so full of malice and hate – could it even belong to the same person that Splinter once knew? "I know you are here, Splinter. I can feel your eyes on me as I speak. I have presented you with a clear target – I should have a knife lodged in my throat by now. But you won't kill me. You are soft – soft like your father."

"Leave this place!" Splinter shouted back.

The instant the words left his mouth, he knew it was a mistake. He had fallen for the Shredder's bait. He ducked just in time to avoid a volley of shuriken, raised his katana just in time to block the Shredder's blades. Metal sparked on metal like lightning in the darkness.

"Where is Tang Shen?"

"She is not here!"

In lethal choreography, the two ninja masters circled each other.

"I know that she is here. I have had scouts watching your house all evening."

"Your scouts are wrong. Leave!"

At that precise moment, the klaxon of Miwa's wailing rang through the house.

Shredder laughed. "Indeed. Give Tang Shen to me, and maybe I will be merciful enough to let your daughter live."

"Leave this place if _you_ wish to live."

"We both know that is an empty threat."

Splinter narrowed his eyes. The lone candle provided just enough illumination to attack; he might have had better success with more light in the room, but in his own home, darkness gave him the advantage. He charged; Shredder deflected his attack immediately.

"Do you really think you can survive this?" Shredder asked, between blows. "You are not a total fool – you know how many men I have outside."

Splinter was done with talking. Shouting, he drove the Shredder back, strike after vicious strike. Steel sparked and blades sang; Splinter gained defensive ground.

Then – too quick, Shredder performed his signature kata, sweeping Splinter's feet from beneath him. Splinter crashed into the wall next to the family shrine; he rolled to dodge a downward slash of Shredder's blades. In a matter of seconds, he was on his feet again, but was forced to duck.

Shredder's blades missed him and crashed into the shrine, slicing the lone candle in half. It landed on the rug; tongues of flame leapt up, casting shadows onto the ceiling like spirits rising from the dead. Splinter made to stamp the fire out, but Shredder interposed, driving Splinter further back into what had once been the sanctuary of his home.

The fire leapt higher, scattering disorienting shadows across his field of vision. Shredder was a backlit black mass, striking like a snake intent upon its prey. Only a few rooms away, Miwa was squalling in fear and confusion. Only a few rooms away, Tang Shen was waiting for an opportunity to flee. With the men still outside, that opportunity might not come.

Shredder had not brought his men to help take the house; he had brought them as an insurance policy. As long as he kept Splinter trapped in the house, he kept Shen trapped too.

Splinter had no more options. For years, he had known that this day would come – the day he would have to kill his childhood friend. His _best_ friend. The only way he could save his family and extinguish the growing fire would be to bathe the floor with Shredder's blood. Then – only then – could he provide a way of escape for his wife and daughter.

All hesitation was gone. Roaring as loudly as the flames, Splinter sprang forward to kill his enemy.

But as the light grew, he only saw a man he had once loved.

Hesitation was gone; remorse was not.

His sorrow was of little consequence; Shredder deflected the strike and sent Splinter sailing back several feet. Flames found the curtains and raced up to the ceiling. Waves of heat and smoke distorted the world. "Saki! We were _brothers_!"

"You dare address me as if I am your _friend_?" Shredder snarled. He spun into a roundhouse. "Your _equal_?"

Splinter dodged the kick. "All those years, Saki! Did they mean _nothing_?"

They locked blades, struggling against each other's force, their faces inches apart.

"No," hissed Shredder, baring his teeth. "They meant everything. _Everything._ They taught me the true meaning of betrayal. And now, you will learn it too – just like your father and mother."

Splinter choked on smoke and dread. "What do you mean?"

"Do you really think yours will be the first Hamato blood my blades have tasted tonight?"

Splinter was too shocked to reply. His grip became shaky; his katana yielded slightly against Shredder's blades.

"I slew your parents in bed where they lay. Your father never even opened his eyes."

"You lie!" Splinter's katana slid along Shredder's blades an inch more.

"Your mother woke with my blades buried in her abdomen, whimpering like a pathetic dog. She asked me _why._ Do you know what I said?"

Splinter's arms began to waver; he could not press back against their blade-lock for much longer.

"I said _Hamato Yoshi _as I ripped out her entrails!"

Bellowing with rage as hot as the flames around them, Splinter redoubled his force. Shredder's blades flew back and Splinter's foot landed squarely on Shredder's chest, knocking him to the ground. Splinter leapt forward in a vicious finishing kata, his katana poised to split his enemy's skull.

At the last second, Shredder kicked his feet up and caught Splinter on the abdomen; Splinter spun from his trajectory and crashed to the floor. His katana flew from his grasp and disappeared into the growing inferno. He rolled away and Shredder's right-hand blades sank into the floorboards where Splinter had lain mere instants ago.

Shredder's blades were stuck; as he strained to remove them, Splinter attacked Shredder from behind, one hand grabbing the back of Shredder's head on the other latching onto his chin.

But Shredder's left hand was still free.

Before Splinter could apply to right torque to snap Shredder's neck, the dual blades swept up, slicing into the flesh of Splinter's forearm. An instant later, Shredder's right hand was free; he swiveled at just the right angle to pull his head safely out of Splinter's now-weakened grasp and wheeled to face him.

Splinter was forced to leap back to avoid the blow, but with a low spinning kick, he knocked Shredder flat on the floor again. Rapid strikes to Shredder's pressure points left him temporarily immobilized.

Splinter did not need a katana. His hands were lethal weapons on their own. A single well-placed chop to the trachea would be enough.

As he raised his arm for the final blow, Shredder seemingly transformed before Splinter's eyes.

_Saki-bo._ His best friend.

He would be killing his brother.

He had no choice.


	2. Part II: Sunset

**Author's note: For those who have read my other story, "My Sons, My Everything," you may notice that some of its elements are contradicted by this story. I may go back and edit "My Sons" at some point to make it consistent with this. :) **

* * *

><p><em>Part II: Sunset<em>

Once again, Splinter's remorse was of little consequence.

Shredder broke free of his momentarily paralysis just in time to deflect the lethal strike. "Do you think I stopped with your parents?" His blades slashed across Splinter's vulnerable forearms once more.

Clutching at the new wound, Splinter dodged a second strike and rolled away. In an instant, he was on his feet, having regained something of a defensible position, but Shredder was up again just as quickly. As Shredder charged him, Splinter ducked in closely enough to deflect Shredder's blows by striking at his wrists, thwarting the blades from their intended target.

With a growl, Shredder retracted the dual blades back into the mechanisms he wore on his wrists; in close quarters, the blades only served to lengthen his arms, inhibiting his ability to defend himself against Splinter's rapid strikes.

But this was exactly what Splinter had wanted. With the blades out of the way, Splinter had a better angle of attack. He landed several hits, sending the Shredder staggering backwards.

Shredder regained his balance and countered with a spinning back kick. "Do you think that your students were able to protect themselves from me?"

Splinter grabbed Shredder's extended leg and flipped him onto the floor. "What are you saying?" He was too dizzied by fear for his family to follow up with a new attack.

Shredder rose from the floor. "Every last one of them is drenched in their own blood." Instead of attacking, he kept his distance.

Splinter circled him. "No. Not even you, Saki."

"Yes, _Yoshi" – _he said the name mockingly – "even me. Your family means nothing to me. The Hamato name is a scourge on Japan – I am wiping it out."

"Not all of my students are Hamatos!"

"Not all of their families were Hamatos either, but I killed them all. And all because of _you. _I will make you suffer in every conceivable way, take away everything you love, destroy your filthy progeny – I will not rest until I have expunged the last drop of Hamato blood from the face of the earth. And then, Splinter, I will take what is rightfully mine."

"You fool! Do you think Tang Shen will ever love you after what you have done?"

"She will have no choice. If you are fortunate, I will let you live long enough to watch."

With a shout of fury, Splinter leapt through the smoke-thickened air. Shredder extended his blades. Once again, they were locked in a deadly impasse. Time was running out. If Splinter could not defeat him soon, the house would fall down around them.

"All of us will die here!" Splinter cried, ducking to avoid the slash of Shredder's blades. He countered with a strike to the pressure point on Shredder's left shoulder. "Please, let my family go!"

Shredder snarled and replied with a low kick.

Splinter jumped high enough to avoid it and landed another blow.

A new voice entered the fray. _"Oroku Saki!_ If I go with you willingly, will you let my husband and daughter live?"

At the sound of his wife's voice, Splinter's stomach plummeted in horror. Coughing, Tang Shen had emerged from the safe room.

Shredder paused; he stared at Shen with a primal hunger in his eyes. "You have my word."

"No!" Splinter shouted. "You cannot trust him!"

"What choice do we have?" Her eyes flashed in desperation, the wild look of a mother willing to do anything to protect her child. "Take Miwa and go, before it's too late!"

"No," Splinter whispered. But he knew she was right; their daughter's safety was of utmost importance. It was too late – the fire was raging so hot that in minutes or less there would be no escape for any of them.

Tang Shen was now the only currency that would purchase their daughter's life back from destruction.

"Come with me! Now!" Shredder bellowed.

The world slowed to a crawl. Splinter watched as his Rising Sun, glowing in the firelight like a brave, beautiful angel, went to surrender herself to blackest night. She was willing to suffer gloaming so that Miwa could live, so that the harmony of their love would not die out.

Tears welling in his eyes, he turned to retrieve Miwa. He knew that Shredder would not make this easy. He knew that the minute he and his daughter were free of the structure, Shredder would send every one of those soldiers after them. But he could defeat enough of them to escape. They were not grandmasters; likely, they did not have even a fraction of his skill. And once Miwa was safe, Splinter would save his wife.

The second Splinter's back was turned, Shredder's flickering shadow raised its blades.

Everything happened so fast the world nearly came to a standstill.

As Splinter turned to meet the strike, he realized in horror that he would not be able to dodge or deflect the fatal blow, but Tang Shen was already running to interpose.

Frame by frame, she leapt straight into the maw of the Shredder's blades. They bit deep into her breast; the points of the steel fangs emerged from her back. A fine spray of blood spattered onto Splinter's face.

A single word escaped her lips in a choking gasp. "Yoshi…"

Then, she went limp, slid off the Shredder's blades, and plummeted to the floor. A vermillion circle bloomed against the field of her white robe, but the Rising Sun had set forever. Splinter collapsed to his knees at her side, screaming her name, shaking her violently. Her lips were stained red with the blood of her dying gasp; her glassy eyes seemed to stare at him, begging him even from beyond death to save their daughter.

"What have you _done_?" roared the Shredder.

Splinter snapped his gaze up to his enemy. He went deaf with rage. _What have _I _done?_ He could not even hear himself screaming as he pushed himself up from the floor, wanting nothing more than to rip Oroku Saki's heart out with his bare hands.

His hearing returned just in time to perceive the groaning and snapping of the house's supports. He narrowly dodged a falling beam and a wall of blistering inferno divided Splinter from his enemy. Shen's body disappeared beneath the debris that was now her pyre.

Over the roar of the fire and his own screaming, a faint sound managed to reach his ears.

The crying of a baby.

Miwa.

_Miwa!_ The waves of heat were so intense that Splinter could barely keep his eyes open. He stumbled in the direction of the safe room, but the lintel in one of the doorways collapsed, sealing the entry with flame. Coughing, Splinter braced himself to leap through it – nothing mattered but Miwa.

_Crack!_

The ceiling collapsed. In seconds, he was buried in rubble. Flames licked along the length of his right leg, searing his flesh. Coughing in the dust and ash, he strained against the weight that pinned him.

Miwa's crying had ceased.

No. _No._ His daughter could not be dead. He had to fight his way out from under the wreckage, had to find her, had to save her or Shen's sacrifice would mean nothing…

He thought he heard the faintest sound of Miwa crying, but it faded as if it was being blown away by the wind. Adrenaline and anguish drove him from the ground. Grunting, he burst up through the rubble, but the bottom half of his body was still trapped. Slowly, painfully, he dragged himself out. The cuts on his forearms oozed blood with every exertion.

Through the haze of smoke and shimmering flames he saw the soldiers walking away. A lone figure limped after them.

_Oroku Saki. _

The man who had taken everything from him.

_Everything._

Screaming, he reached out a single hand as if it would be enough to strike the Shredder dead where he stood. The only thing he wanted more than recompense for his wife was to save his daughter. That thought was what gave him the strength to drag himself away from the flames that were eating into his leg. He staggered away from the structure a few steps and was elated to see that the four pillars and ceiling of their safe room where still standing. He ran as fast as he was able to see if he could find a way in –

It collapsed.

Six-foot flames seethed around the wreckage.

_"Miwa! No!" _

He fell to his knees and beat his fists on the ground, scattering drops of blood like penance.

_No. _

He did not know how long he sat there, watching the last remnants of his life disintegrate into ash. Eventually, the pain in his leg made him aware that he needed to do something. His first thought was ritual suicide. If his wife and daughter were dead, it was only because of him. If his whole family was dead, it was because of the feud he had started with Oroku Saki…the man who had been _his brother…_

Splinter had brought dishonor and shame to his entire clan.

He had brought dishonor and shame and _death _to all of his students. To his clients and to his in-laws.

_Unless…_

Had Shredder only been goading him, trying to break his focus? He knew what he had to do; he had to see for himself what had happened, see the full extent of his dishonor.

He took inventory of his injuries. His left leg was bloodied and black in places, both of his forearms were scored with deep cuts, and various contusions were blooming everywhere else.

His parents' house was the first place he went. It was within walking distance, and his father had an extensive amount of first-aid supplies.

The journey was painful, but not as painful as the arrival. Their front door fluttered open and shut in the wind, as if hundreds of _kami _were entering to welcome the residents to the world of spirits. Splinter broke into an excruciating run. In through the door he went, hurrying through the familiar passages to his parents' room.

What he saw was nothing less than his worst fears. Their bed was drenched with blood; his mother was eviscerated, a look of shock permanently etched onto her face.

_Otōsan…Okāsan…_

He limped of the house, his heart empty and aching. He collapsed to the ground and vomited.

If this was true, why should anything else be false?

_My clan…_

There was nothing left to reclaim his honor except to take his life. Not even killing the Shredder would be enough to expunge his shame – if Splinter lived only for vengeance, how would that make him any different than Shredder? He ran to the dojo adjacent to his parent's house and found the sharpest sword there. He drew a deep breath, scanning the room one last time, taking in all of the memories that had happened here. His eyes passed over his family portrait.

In his mind, he heard his wife gasping his name as she died.

She had died to save him. What greater impurity could he possibly commit than to prove that her sacrifice was entirely in vain? Would she have wanted him to die, even if he could not save their daughter? His honor was irrelevant. Shen's was what mattered. He could not dishonor her death by causing his own. He would not spurn her memory. She deserved at least that much.

He threw the sword to the ground. He would go on living for her sake.

He would have to leave Japan. He would go somewhere that the Shredder would never find him. A place where he could disappear, where no one would know him, where no one could ever find out where he was…

He started to leave the dojo when something held him back. He turned and looked at the beautiful silk screens that had belonged to his family for over a century. So many weapons were there too – some of which had been forged by his ancestors. In his heart, he knew he could not leave these here to be claimed as evidence by the police – assuming that the Foot did not come back before then.

First, he needed to tend his injuries. Because they were so far out in the country, his parents had always kept an extensive amount of first aid supplies; they had taught him basic field medicine from his youth. He went back into the house and bathed his wounds in hydrogen peroxide, then slathered antibacterial burn gel over his leg and wrapped gauze around it. The wounds on his arms, however, would need sutures. As he looked for the sutures, however, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

His face was spattered with Tang Shen's blood.

Hands shaking, he washed it away. He did not have time to mourn now. Not when the Foot might return at any moment. When he finally found the sutures, he could hardly keep the sterile needle steady. The pain of stitching up his wounds was nothing compared to the raw anguish in his heart.

Once his wounds were dressed, he returned to the dojo and packed what he could. As he broke the silk screens from their frames and rolled them tightly, he tried to decide where he would go from here. He was fluent in English, after all.

Where was it that his childhood English tutor had been from? New York City? There, Splinter would be separated from Japan by all of the Pacific Ocean and America in one direction, and all of Asia, Europe, and the Atlantic ocean the other way. The world's largest ocean and the world's largest continent would shield him on either side. Plus, he could easily stow away on a ship across the Pacific, then somehow make his way to the East Coast. It would be a long journey, and difficult and dangerous without the proper documentation, but surely America had a thriving black market for such things.

He would need money. Going to a bank would be huge risk, but what choice did he have? Briefly, he reminded himself that there were ATMs – he would never get used to all of this new technology. His family had always resisted such change.

His family.

They were gone now.

He pushed the thought from his mind and loaded all of the things he was taking into his parents' old car. There were so many things he would have to leave behind; he took only the most valuable of the weapons. Even then, he found himself thinking that he might have to pare down his collection if he was going to take them with him.

The last thing he packed was his family portrait, a color photograph of him and Tang Shen together, and a few of the good-luck charms and statuettes that she had given to him. He sealed them tightly in a box, promising himself that he would not open it again until he had somehow made peace with himself.

Assuming that he ever would.

* * *

><p>The next morning, bankers found that a bank account belonging to one Hamato Yoshi had been drained. Police found a vehicle registered to a murdered man not far from the docks. The crew of the transport company ship was blissfully unaware of the silently weeping passenger that had hidden his most precious possessions and himself in their cargo hold.<p>

The ship sailed east – east, where the sun rose every morning. But even as the red orb was rising over the sparkling sea, Splinter still knew he would spend the rest of his life in sunset and night.


	3. Chapter 3

_Part III: Phoenix_

_NEW YORK CITY, 2012_

Leonardo sighed in frustration.

He simply couldn't sleep tonight. He could hear Mikey's snores echoing down the hallway – clearly, Mikey had had no problem forgetting about the day's events long enough to fall asleep. Fleetingly, Leo wished that he could have even a fraction of Mikey's carefree spirit.

But he was the leader. He didn't get to be carefree. His whole purpose was to be the one that did care, that stayed focused, that made sure his team made it through safely every time.

His team. Were Raph and Donnie struggling to sleep too? Maybe if he checked on them, saw that they were okay, he would be able to find some rest for himself. Not bothering to tie on his mask, kneepads, or wrappings – after all, he was only going to be up for a few minutes – he walked out into the hall and headed for Raph's room.

Predictably, the door was locked. Leo pressed his ear against the door, listening as hard as he could. At first, he heard nothing, but then he heard what sounded like a soft snore. Content with this, Leo walked down to Donnie's room. He tried the handle; it wasn't locked. Slowly, he opened the door. Donnie lay on his bed, peacefully sleeping.

As Leo closed the door and started back to his own room, he found that he wasn't feeling any better. Why was he the only one who seemed to have trouble sleeping? All of them had been in real fear for their lives, all of them had been afraid for their sensei…so why was Leo struggling with this so much? Why was it that whenever he closed his eyes, _that_ was all that he could see?

His brothers, scattered and injured. Him, pinned to the ground. His sensei, his _father,_ looming over him with blank and soulless eyes, ready to drive a katana straight through his throat. Splinter's elbow had retracted, ready for the fatal blow.

So many emotions had coursed through Leo at once: terror, betrayal, failure…

He had never been so relieved in his _life_ when Splinter snapped out of it and flattened Falco with a single blow. But if it hadn't been for Splinter's ability to break free from Falco's hold, there would have been _nothing_ Leo could do to save his brothers. He would have died, and his own father would have killed his brothers one by one.

Leo shivered. He had always respected Splinter. He had always known that Splinter was powerful. Never once had he been _terrified _of him – until today.

Surely Splinter was having trouble sleeping…?

Leo walked across the lair and to the far end of the dojo. He hesitated. None of them ever went into Splinter's room, at least not since they were little. He couldn't bring himself to invade Splinter's privacy that way, especially if Splinter _was_ having trouble sleeping. Instead, he stood outside of the silk screen door and listened; he thought he heard soft, rhythmic breathing.

Apparently, Splinter wasn't having any problems sleeping. Not even after almost killing his own sons.

As Leo walked out of the dojo, he tried to remind himself that Splinter was probably exhausted from the whole ordeal – after all, a deranged psychopath had taken control of his mind. He was probably just too tired to do anything but sleep.

_I guess I am the only one,_ Leo thought. He headed to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He had finished drinking about half of it when a sharp cry echoed through the lair.

_Splinter._ Leo's heart nearly stopped…had Falco survived somehow? Was Splinter in danger? Leo bolted back to the dojo, suddenly wishing he'd taken the time to put on all of his gear after all. Feeling shaky, he grabbed one of his katanas from the dojo wall – just in case – and walked over to the silk screens.

Slowly, as silently as possible, he slid the partition open.

Splinter lay on his mat, moaning and twitching. His eyes moved rapidly beneath their lids; his breaths were gasps. He kept muttering _no_ over and over.

Leo took a few tentative steps into the room. When the Rat King had been trying to take over him earlier, Splinter seemed to be in some kind of non-responsive trance. This looked more like a nightmare.

Leo hesitated for a moment. "Sensei?"

With an anguished shout, Splinter sat stock upright; in the same motion, he flung a knife straight at Leo. Leo yelped and raised his katana to deflect it. "Sensei!"

Splinter was panting. He stared at Leo with confusion in his eyes, as though he didn't even recognize him.

Leo tightened his grip on his katana, bracing himself for the worst.

"Leonardo?"

Leo swallowed. "Is it the Rat King?"

Splinter looked bewildered for a moment, then buried his face in his hands. "Yes. And no."

While the 'yes' stirred concern, the 'and no' definitely sounded like Splinter was, at the very least, himself. Leo lowered his sword. Maybe Splinter was just having a nightmare about the whole ordeal. Slowly, Leo walked over and sat on the floor beside the mat, laying his katana on the floor.

Splinter didn't look at him; he continued to hide behind his hands, breathing heavily.

Leo was unsure of what to do. Should he leave? Should he stay and try to help? He newly ingrained leader instincts told him that he should stay, but at the same time…he wasn't _Splinter's _leader. Leo could not remember a time he had ever offered consolation to his sensei. He had seen Splinter angry, he had seen Splinter saddened, but Splinter never seemed to be emotional about anything for very long. He was a rock, even after snapping out of his hypnosis today.

But this – this was a different Splinter than Leo had ever seen before. Vulnerable. Traumatized. Shaky. An empty shell. Leo couldn't leave him like this. "What is it?"

"Go," Splinter whispered, not uncovering his face.

"I'm not a little kid anymore. You can talk to me about it."

For few moments, Splinter did nothing.

Then, Splinter threw his arms around Leo, squeezing him tightly and _sobbing _into his shoulder.

Leo was paralyzed with shock. Splinter _never _cried. Leo had always, for some reason, assumed that Splinter was incapable of such a thing. After all, hadn't he trained all four of them to repress tears, as they inhibited one's ability to be ready for a fight?

After a minute, he recovered enough to return the hug awkwardly, gingerly patting Splinter's back. Finally, he found his voice. "Sensei…what's wrong?"

As abruptly as he had initiated the embrace, Splinter pulled away, wiping tears from his eyes. "I am sorry – I should not have – forgive me – that was not right of me to do – you should not have had to see that…" He drew several deep breaths, and within a few moments, seemed to have returned to his normal state. He stood up from the floor and walked into the dojo.

It was a clear signal that Splinter did not want Leo in his room anymore. Leo scrambled up, grabbed his katana, and followed after him.

The dojo was dimly illuminated by the street lights filtering down through the sewer grate above; Leo watched as Splinter took a match and lit the two candles on the small shrine. Splinter stared at them like a man haunted by demons that he would never be able to exorcise. Then, still facing the wall, he put a hand on the bridge of his nose and began to speak. "When the Rat King was attempting to take control of my mind, he" – there was a sudden catch in his voice – "used memories from my past to convince me that I was not a man anymore, that I had no family left besides him and his legions. Those distant memories now seem new again."

_My place is with my sons,_ Splinter had said. Leo realized that Splinter had been telling the Rat King that he did, in fact, still have a family. "Yeah, but you beat him in the end, Sensei. We're all safe now."

Splinter made an odd choking sound. "Yes, my son. We are."

Something in the tone of Splinter's voice made Leo think that maybe the nightmare hadn't been about the Rat King at all, and made him realize that he had selfishly interpreted the statement to center on him and his brothers. _Those distant memories now seem new again. _A shiver shot down the back of Leo's neck. _That_ had been the focus of Splinter's statement – how could he have so stupidly missed that?

"What…memories did he use?" Even as Leo asked it, he suspected that he already knew the answer.

Splinter drew several deep breaths. "The night I lost – everything."

So _that_ was what his nightmare had been about.

"Sensei…" Leo hesitated. Was this a question he really wanted to ask? He had heard Splinter explain the result of that night's events, but never much beyond the fact that Shredder had attacked them, the house had burned down, and that Splinter lost his wife and daughter. "What exactly happened that night?"

Finally, Splinter turned away from the wall. He walked over to Leonardo and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I will tell you what happened that night. I learned the true meaning of the Phoenix." In response to Leo's puzzled look, Splinter continued. "My life went up in flames all around me. I was convinced that I would never – ever – rise from the ashes. But I did. In the end, you four have made it all worthwhile. I would not trade you and your brothers for my old life back – not even a hundred times over." Splinter gave Leo a brief embrace. "Now go to bed. We have training in the morning."

"But Sensei…"

Splinter's harsh look cut Leo off mid-sentence.

"Hai, Sensei," Leo sighed. He bowed before replacing his katana on its hook on the wall and then turning to go. When he reached the dojo entrance, he looked back. Splinter was sitting on the ground meditating, murmuring a mantra to himself. Leo's heart sank; he knew that Splinter only used audible mantras when he was struggling to center himself – though generally any struggles were on account of Leo and his brothers making ridiculous amounts of noise.

After a few moments, Splinter ceased his mantra. Leo smiled, hoping that it meant that his sensei had finally found some peace.

"Bed, Leonardo!"

Leo nearly jumped out of his shell. "Hai, Sensei." As he walked away from the dojo, he could hear Splinter resuming his mantra.

Leo understood Splinter's embarrassment. Essentially, he had seen his father naked, seen a part of him that Splinter never wanted anyone to see – a chink in his armor that revealed a traumatized, vulnerable man. But as far as Leo was concerned, what he had seen tonight only convinced him even more that no man on the planet was braver or more invincible than Hamato Yoshi.

As he crawled back into bed, he yawned. Strangely enough, he felt safer than ever, and drowsiness finally swept over him. As he drifted into sleep, a single thought was fixed in his mind.

Forget Captain Ryan. There was only one man that Leo wanted to be just like.

* * *

><p><em>Inhale. Exhale. <em>

Splinter struggled to find peace in the wake of his nightmare.

Ever since he had learned that the Shredder was in New York, his old nightmares had returned.

When he had seen Leonardo and Raphael practicing Shredder's signature kata – the very one that had thrown Splinter into the wall next to his small family shrine fifteen years ago – the flashback had been so vivid that for an instant, he thought he was surrounded by smoke and flames.

When his sons had come home – beaten, bruised, and bloodied, marked by the blades that had taken his wife from him – the nightmares grew worse than ever. No more were they of things past; no more did he hear Miwa crying and feel a fine spray of blood on his face.

It was worse.

Every night, he watched his sons die over and over again, surrounded by flames.

Even after Splinter had reined in his fear enough to apologize for panicking his sons, the dreams did not subside. Nevertheless, he had been able to temper them; while he still remembered them every morning, he no longer woke in the middle of the night.

But not even showing Splinter the darkest parts of his life had been enough for the Rat King to conquer him. Splinter could not lose what he no longer had.

But he could lose his sons.

His sons were all he had left, but they were not some mere consolation prize that soothed the loss of his wife and daughter. He had lost everything – but he had gained everything and more. His sons were his world, the sun of his life.

_Even your so-called sons have begun to outgrow you._

_Soon, you will be all alone. _

Without them, what did he have?

_Nothing. _

This was what had broken his spirit: the Rat King had shown Splinter a world where his sons were gone. But it was Splinter's fear that had almost killed them, that had allowed the Rat King to take hold. If Leonardo had not helped to drag him back from the brink…

Splinter's hands shook. He had already acknowledged this, had already made peace with it. He let it flow away into the energy of the universe. It was the nightmare that plagued him now. He refocused his thoughts and concentrated on his mantra. He just had to acknowledge it and let it flow…

Leonardo had probably thought that the nightmare was only about that fateful night in Japan.

It was so much worse than that.

Not only had Splinter relived every painstaking detail of that night as if it were happening all over again – every sound, every smell, every sensation – he had dreamt of the only thing worse than a world where he lost his sons. Worse even than a world where he _himself_ might kill his sons.

He had dreamt of a world without sunrise. A world where the Phoenix forever disintegrated into ash.

A world where mutagen did not exist.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it! You probably won't see any more fics from me until April (the month, not the character) 2015, when I will (hopefully) start working on "Aftershock," which will be the concluding story of my "The Girl Next Door" and "Donatello's Demise" story arc. So, anyway, I hope you have a wonderful, happy new year!<strong>


End file.
